


Jacob Frye x Reader: The Love Letter

by Oreana



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: F/M, Love, Love Letters, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 17:44:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7371472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oreana/pseuds/Oreana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story about the reader receiving a love letter from Jacob Frye and the events that transpire after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Love Letter

**Author's Note:**

> {IMPORTANT: I am afraid that no more Jacob Frye/Assassin's Creed works will come from me having been harassed out of the fandom for nearly half a year. I've lost my drive and passion for it entirely, but I appreciate the support and love that has come from some of my readers. <3 Thank you all for the fun times, but because of the death threats and other absurd comments thrown my way via Tumblr, I'd rather forget about this fandom entirely. Do not expect anymore updates of these stories.}
> 
> The work that started my fall into madness with the love letters from AC characters on my blog. x'D Anyways, first series I ever did with Jacob Frye and a reader. I did this piece as a means for a Valentine's Day gift to my loyal and lovely readers on my tumblr blog. Enjoy :3

A warm bed was quite welcome in the cold and rainy evening. It was what anybody would prescribe for winter’s bedtime, as you enjoyed the salvation that your home gave you from the unruly weather outside. However, as the hours passed on the clock, you felt that unforgiving chill creep into your room. Frowning in dismay, you slowly opened your eyes to notice that your window, which you usually kept shut tight on nights like this, was cracked open and allowing the room to become cold. 

_That is odd_ , you thought to yourself as your feet found the flooring soon enough as you hurried over to shut the window. It didn’t shut as intended right away as the bitter, winter wind was quite eager to fight your strength as you attempted to do so. But, finally—after a small struggle—you succeeded, and the window closed. 

Rubbing your upper arms to try and warm yourself, you turned to merely head back to bed, but something caught your eye there near the nightstand just by the bed. Walking closer, you noticed it was a letter that you didn’t remember being there before bed hours ago. 

The Rooks’ symbol and the tattoo that the elusive Jacob Frye coveted closely was upon the letter. 

“From Jacob…?” you murmured to yourself in the thick darkness before turning it over to work away at the flap and get to the letter inside. 

To my dearest (Y/N), 

Forgive the window being open, as I am sure you’ll get cross with me about that later, but it was the only way to wake you without me having to be the one to do so. 

I am sure you’re surprised to see a letter left by me, but to be honest with you and myself, this is probably the best way for me to convey my emotions. How cowardly am I, eh? But, it will make seeing you next we meet a bit easier, or, perhaps, harder, in my case. 

Emotions are such a fickle thing. At one moment, I can be fine with the idea of keeping my distance from you, but at the other, I find myself worried, and my head swimming with thoughts of you. I used to care little of the thoughts of love and where it could take me. My ideals of such an emotion were more along the lines of what revenge I could give my father and sister. What an irritating shit I can be, and I say this in a lighthearted manner, or perhaps, I am laughing as I write this, because it’s better to laugh at the truth than deny its existence at times. 

Please, don’t think me of going off topic. I never wanted you to come to the belief that my emotions for you were anything but truthful and honest as I write this confession. I wasn’t going to use you in any form to get back at anybody, as I treasure you far too much. At first, you were just a part of my gang that I enjoyed having a jolly time about London with when it came to Blighters and taking down necessary targets, but you captivated me in odd ways, I must admit. I am sure I could sit here like some awkward virgin boy and explain how your brutal attacks get me going, but I will resist the urge to be so unnaturally poetic, as that is beyond my ability. 

Let me be frank, (Y/N), or I worry of losing your interest as well as my own nerve: I feel that if I lose you, I may lose myself shortly after. 

I know I have done a rubbish time at trying to explain to you why I’ve been acting out when it came to other blokes and them getting too close to you, but this is the best answer I can give you. I pray it will be enough. Just breathing the same air as you can be the most liberating thing for me, and I do hope you won’t deny me this pleasure in the future. If you do, then I will do my best to insist that it is quite alright and leave you be.                                                                                                 

If I wasn’t such a coward when it comes to this foreign feeling, I would be there right now begging for you to let me love you and show you what I could offer. Perhaps, if you deem me worthy to hold your heart, I will be able to one night. As I write this, I fear I may do so just because of these images in my head that refuse to leave. Would me being there make this different? Maybe I obtained the courage to do so, and I am standing there now. I am uncertain as I write this currently. Just to hold you once and to find the valor to kiss you without using an excuse that the pint made me do it would be worth a try sometime. 

I did get poetic there, didn’t I? Forgive me, or should I ask for forgiveness? Do you like this sort of thing? If I were to be honest, I don’t know much about you beyond a bit of your past and some of your likes, but your romantic life never came into question. I was too worried to ask who had the pleasure of loving you before I came to town. I am the jealous sort, and I am not afraid to admit that flaw. 

I worry it is getting late, and this letter must close, or I fear throwing it away out of fright. I’ve fought and killed countless people…how is it you, of all people, manage to make me scared? What is it that you have over me? I guess it’s your smile and that gleam in your eyes and the way they light up at times whenever I try my best to impress you. 

Give me the courage I need, (Y/N), to next see you again and to admit to you that I love you face-to-face. I’ve never felt so anxious in all my life just wondering what you will think of me as I close this letter and seal it with my inner most personal thoughts about you. I could lie and say this was all a ruse to try and give you space and time to think about your decision, but I am just a coward. 

A coward who is in love. 

I will speak with you again in the morning, I am sure. Sleep well, and, next we meet, perhaps you will allow me to share your bed, since I can tell those sheets don’t do the best job keeping you warm on such cold evenings. 

Forever yours,

 

Jacob Frye


	2. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader and Jacob Frye explore the means of a relationship on a date night.

You read the letter for hours, if you were to be honest—well, long enough for you to fall asleep to it anyways. It was a simple message of love, but you weren’t even sure how to feel. Inwardly, you wished he was there, but at the same time, you were glad he wasn’t as maybe time alone to think of what you wanted to say was better than having him standing there and giving you that look he always did when he was curious to know how you felt. Just imagining it caused your dreams to be invaded by him and all the adventures the two of you had together on the streets of London. 

“ ** _OI!_** ” you heard, almost as loud as day as you slept. That was Jacob’s voice…were the dreams getting a lot more vivid or…? 

“Don’t tempt me to come over there, ya daft wankers!” 

Again, his voice. 

That sounded too real, and, upon opening your eyes, you realized that it was being yelled just outside your window on the bottom floor. You were sprawled across your back with your hair a mess and the letter had fallen from your hand and on the floorboards of the room during the night. 

Hastily, you wiped the sleep from your eyes and hurried to the windowsill to look beyond the old, discolored glass to peer out onto the streets of London. Jacob was resting against the brick wall of your home with two Rooks there beside him and Blighters, you could easily see, were on the opposite side of the street taunting and yelling obscenities to the traitors and Jacob. Jacob appeared unfazed, as always, and kept toying with his gun the longer this exchanged continued as a threat to use it. 

“God dammit…why at this hour?” you sighed as you shook your head. Just a moment ago you got up and it was only seven or so in the morning according to your clock. 

This always happened. The damn Blighters were always trying to cause problems on the streets when able just to take down a Rook or two if they could or even to just cause a ruckus. Hurrying away from the window and grabbing up your Rook outfit from the chair you had thrown it upon last night, you did the quickest possible change and grabbed up your gun and knife you kept with you on the job before heading downstairs and out to the streets. 

By the time you made it to the scene, Jacob and the other Rooks he was with had managed to handle the problem. The Rooks had attacked the Blighters, and the Blighters fled from the scene after a few shots were fired and fists connected to their jaws, no doubt. Jacob was laughing at his triumphant as you stood there just beyond the door to your house. His back was to you currently. He hadn’t noticed you were awake now. You chewed nervously at your lower lip as now you had to face him and talk to him about the love letter he had gifted to you last night. 

Continuing his smug laughter, Jacob spun around on his heels after reloading his pistol, and it was then his eyes met yours. He was stone faced and his body quickly tensed, as if he had come across the biggest challenge he had to face. You wondered what he would say or do, but he was intent to just stand there and wait for you to make the first move. He did put the ball in your court, didn’t he? 

You managed to take one brave step forwards, and upon finding your legs at that moment, you hurried towards him with such an eager speed that the cold, winter air was stinging your cheeks with its icy bite. Jacob apparently took that as his signal that you were fine with his honesty and found his own courage to meet you halfway. Your arms around him tightly, you buried your face into his chest to at least hide your emotions a bit more and just enjoy in his embrace. 

His gloved hand cradled the top of your head while his cheek rested against your hair. Jacob’s hold upon you was tight, as if eager to keep you still and just there in his arms as long as possible. Neither of you seemed to find the bravery to speak until the assassin finally found his nerve there in the bitter weather that morning. 

“I am sorry again for the window,” he insisted in a teasing tone to break the silence. “As I said, I just didn’t have the nerve to wake you, and, also…you looked too peaceful just resting there.” 

“It is quite alright,” you murmured against his chest. Normally, you’d be a bit more cocky and playful with him, but that was when you assumed him your boss and confidant. Now, you were at the mercy of his love. Just the sound of his muffled heart beating against his attire was intoxicating and you almost found yourself falling into its rhythm. You never had anybody be so daring as to leave you a love letter before. 

“Would you be offended if I kissed you?” Jacob asked boldly. 

Your grip upon his leather trench coat tightened as a warm feeling rushed over your body at the idea. He did it once before…but you were both so tipsy and out of it that you took his white lie that the pint made him do it to heart. Moving a bit away from his chest to look up into his eyes nervously, your lower lip trembled as you tried to speak. You never knew saying ‘yes’ would be so hard before. 

You fumbled over your words, but you did manage to finally say: “Y-Yes…!” 

His hands moved to your upper arms to hold you there in place as he moved to kiss you. It was different from that sloppy one he did back at the pub that one night. Obviously, he was more in control of his actions, as he was also being cautious in how he handled you. To say it was a ‘simple kiss’ would be underplaying it for yourself, really. His temperate breath filled your entire body with indescribable warmth, which was much desired that cold morning, and a foreign sense of euphoria you rarely felt with anybody. Your heart was beating so fast that you felt faint. Thank God he was holding you upright. 

His hold tightened upon your shoulders, and he tilted his head to the side to prompt him to do something you weren’t expecting as you never felt that before. His tongue brushed against your lips, as if to beg for entrance, but you accidentally jerked your head from the surprise feel of such an action. Jacob halted his advances, and he looked upon you in a bit of worry shrouding his face. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked curiously—nervously, actually. Was he always this worried whenever he was attracted to someone? He was so different now. 

“N-No, it wasn’t that,” you stuttered, touching your lips with your fingertips as if to keep the taste of him still while you savor the moment in your mind and heart. “I just…I am not used to that sort of ‘kiss’.” 

Jacob sighed his relief, as the tension declined and his grasp upon you loosened. That sideways smirk was upon him yet again, and he felt a bit like his normal self with his confidence returning. “But you enjoyed it, yeah?” 

Hearing that overconfident tone in the assassin, you did your best to hide your laugh as you looked down and away from him. “Let nobody doubt your kissing ability, Mr. Frye. You do know how to make a young lady swoon.” 

He smirked, letting you have your room as he removed his arms from you. “I think the ‘Mr. Frye’ is unnecessary at this point, my dear.” 

You gave him a teasing look—brow raised as you bit at your thumbnail in thought. It was then you remembered those vague, yet racy comments he left in his note. “Oh?” you pressed with a grin forming across your lips at the tantalizing memory. “And would you say the ideals of sharing my bed were necessary?” (You said such a thing just to see what he would say, honestly. You were curious what prompted that line of confession late at night.)

Again, Jacob acted a bit self-satisfied. Seems he was back to his usual self, and it put you at ease to see. He leaned in slightly and whispered to you: “Would you deny me that honor, though?” 

You’d think it was some dirty secret he shared as, yet again, your legs felt weak. But, you had your principles, and while a part of you would be fine to test such an idea right away, you resisted. Arms crossed upon your chest, you looked at him as you decided what to do. “Are you not even going to ask me out on a date of some sort, Jacob?” 

Jacob rubbed the back of his neck like he was being shy again, but that boastful behavior was still very much littering in his movements and expressions. Hazel eyes finding you once more, he shrugged his brow. “Why not? Shouldn’t I be at least giving you flowers or something for this occasion?”

You gasped, as if offended he had forgotten such a detail. “Why did you not leave one with the letter, Jacob Frye?” 

“I wrote that letter at half past eleven,” he said, leaning towards you with a slight fix of his top hat. “I was pressed for time to get it to you as quickly as possible, or I feared burning it out of nervousness.” Jacob knew you were teasing, so it bothered him little. “Besides, if I knew you liked flowers, I would have gotten you a bouquet of them.” 

The harder you tried to get back to the playful taunting and teasing, the more you realized that, when under the effects of love, Jacob was a totally different man underneath. Seems he was willing to do whatever he could to outwardly make you smile and or blush—whatever happened first. “Did you really leave last night after you dropped it off?” you asked curiously. 

“No,” Jacob answered right away, turning to point towards the bare tree that overlooked your house. “I was up in the tree there watching you till you closed the window and headed back to bed, I think. The view is rubbish up there when it comes to trying to see into your bedroom completely.” 

The branch he was on was no doubt the higher one of the many jetting out to overshadow your home and its front yard, or otherwise, you would have seen him. “I was going to go to bed, but that was when I saw your letter, and I read it, actually.” 

Jacob probably knew this conversation could go on for awhile, so he changed the topic on you and offered a coin purse he had dug out of his pocket. He saw your confusion as he took your hand and placed the money in your palm. “Here. I’ve seen your clothes, and I know you don’t own anything for a date night. This should help with whatever you decide to buy.” 

You couldn’t help but feel offended. Scrunching up your face in disappointment at his words, you cocked a brow at him. “Since when have you seen my wardrobe in its entirety, Jacob?” 

“Do you have something to wear then?” he asked, tilting his head down and looking to you peculiarly. 

Puffing out your cheeks, you tried to think of a valid excuse for your clothing being very ordinary, but when one failed to come, you sighed out your defeat. “No…” 

Your answer was quiet, but Jacob could obviously hear it. “I thought as much,” he said in an equally soft tone, turning to leave you be for the time being. 

“W-Wait! Shouldn’t you come with me to pick something out! It is your money!” you reminded him, practically yelling at him at this point since Jacob was sauntering towards the streets of London just ahead. 

“Not anymore!” he called over his shoulder. “It is yours! Do as you please with it!” Pocketing his hands, he spun around for a moment with a wink. “I’ll be around come seven to pick you up!” 

You reached out to the wandering assassin, taking one eager step forward. “But—!” 

Jacob didn’t respond. He merely waved over his shoulder, and like a ghost in the night, he disappeared into the thick fog that had slowly gathered about the area over your conversation with one another. 

 

 

A dress…you rarely found an occasion to wear such things. You always just wore your Blighter uniform before the Rooks one because you spent so much time out on the streets, and when not on the streets, working about the local farm to help with the horses, which would be pulling the carriages all about London. Dresses weren’t necessary for the jobs you took on day in and day out. 

Was it wrong to say you felt out of your element when walking into a store dedicated to such fine fabrics? It was other worldly for you to walk in and actually just be shopping to find something that suited your taste for a date night with Jacob Frye. But…nothing really suited your taste, so it came down to ‘what would Jacob like for you to wear’? 

Your teeth rolled over your lower lip nervously while your fingers fondled the expensive fabrics in uncertainty. After searching through the selection for what felt like most your day, you finally found something that would suffice and took it home to try on. 

It was a low-cut dress across the top and upper back, making you feel more exposed than you desired to be. The only time you exposed your skin was to shower or to undress, and now you’d be walking out in public like this. The sleeves were long for the winter evening and you wrapped the intricate scarf about your upper shoulders loosely. Fixing the many frills and clothing layers about the dress, you looked in the mirror and nodded approvingly only to have your stomach flip-flop in building anxiety. 

“What will he think of me now…?” you wondered with a steady sigh to calm yourself. “Don’t think about it,” you encouraged yourself, grabbing onto your hair and looking into the mirror once more from side to side. “I’ve got to do something about this, but…later. The date won’t be till many hours.” 

And so you waited. You didn’t have the nerve to head out onto the streets, so you took a moment to stay in doors and just enjoy a book or two. When you felt it as good a time as any to get ready, you did so in a timely fashion. With your hair fashioned how you desired and everything seemingly in order, you hiked up your gown and made your way down the steps to wait outside for Jacob to arrive. 

As you heard Big Ben chime the hour, you waited in the cold with a slight sway to try and still your anxieties. Suddenly, as if on cue, there came the sound of hooves beating against the street and the sound of a carriage creaking as it wobbled upon the slightly uneven cobblestone that paved the road to your house. The mist parted, and a horse drawn carriage came into view with a rider you didn’t recognize. 

You figured it was just a man passing through until the carriage stopped right beside you. As you were about to question what the meaning of this was, the door opened and Jacob jumped out of the back. You caught your breath at the sight of him. He was actually wearing a tuxedo—something you didn’t think you’d see him in. Like you in a dress, it didn’t feel like it fit his tastes. 

“You look lovely,” Jacob complimented, taking your hand. You expecting he was just taking it to escort you somewhere until he turned your hand up towards his lips where he kissed the back of your hand with a bow after he had removed his hat. 

You struggled to find your voice. “I-umm-a carriage, Jacob?” you asked, laughter tickling your words. “You didn’t really have to go through that trouble, you know?” 

He smirked, placing his top hat back on his head with a shrug of his brow. “It was no trouble at all.” Jacob gestured towards the carriage at that moment, trying to aid you in getting in. 

“You didn’t steal this, did you?” you asked, knowing him all too well as you made it to the door. 

“I haven’t the foggiest of what you’re implying about me,” Jacob whispered, being vague in his response, but you could tell he was hiding something. 

You rolled your eyes playfully at him, but just as you were about to sit down upon the soft, velvety, red cushions of the carriage, you stopped yourself midway through the idea as there was a bouquet of roses there near the center. Moving them into your hands and out of the way of where you desired to sit, you looked to Jacob as he joined you in the carriage right before it took off. 

A dozen red roses were what the bouquet consisted of. Your face was no doubt as red as the pedals themselves. “Jacob, you know you don’t have to go through this sort of trouble for me,” you reminded him yet again. The carriage jerked forwards as the horse started its journey onwards to, who knows where. You weren’t exactly informed yet as to where you were both going. 

He shrugged with a smug, yet knowing look. “You mentioned flowers, so I got you flowers.” When you didn’t respond right away, he pried: “A bit much?” 

You stifled your laugh. “No, Jacob. It’s perfect.” You put them in your lap as the ride continued, looking to him with a furrowed brow. “I guess I just never imagined you to go so far.” 

Jacob moved his arm closest to you, taking your hand into his own with a smile that felt genuine. “Do I have to explain to you why I do so?” he asked honestly. His fingers wrapped about your hand tightly for a moment before he relaxed his hold on you. It was like some unspoken need for strength. “I wasn’t lying when I told you what I did in that letter. If you enjoy the idea of me giving you flowers, then I will do it. If you want me to write you love letters and attempt poetry, then I will do my best just to see you happy.” 

You were speechless. Honestly, you wish you could just hide your face for a moment as that was honestly the sweetest thing anybody had said to you. 

“And there you go making me sound poetic again,” Jacob griped jokingly, hoping to break the silence. 

Managing to laugh to his words, you squeezed his hand right back finally upon finding your own courage to do so. “You say that like it is a bad thing. What’s most welcome, Jacob Frye, is your honesty.” 

And with that said, you leaned in to kiss him as the driver headed onwards through London to the pub in Lambeth. 

His arm taking yours when the carriage came to a stop, Jacob escorted you to the inside of the pub before finding a table near the windows where you both sat to enjoy the music the piano player was orchestrating. It was a pleasant evening. The atmosphere was soothing (even if damn cold), the food was delightful and the conversations between the two of you were engaging. 

“So you still wear that…glove thing, Jacob?” you asked, motioning to his gauntlet on his left arm. 

“For business reasons, love,” Jacob answered after he had swallowed his food. “I don’t know when I may need it.” 

“How do you not stab yourself with that hidden blade though?” You couldn’t help but be curious. Every time he flicked his wrist, the blade seemed to engage, and he did move his hand and wrist about to the point you thought for sure it would do so at some point. 

“I keep it away from my body,” he answered a bit jokingly over the sound of the music, which was starting up again after a small pause. 

You laughed sarcastically at his choice of words. “I meant, how does it not just release right now with you moving your hand about?” 

Jacob smirked, removing the assassin weapon from his person. “I’ll show you.” He motioned his fingers in a ‘come hither’ manner. “Let me see your left arm.” 

You hesitated having such a thing on you, but you knew Jacob wouldn’t steer you wrong. He had no reason to, so you did as he asked and allowed him to fasten the gauntlet on you. 

“Alright,” he grunted, sitting back against his chair when he fixed the item upon you. “Now, try and make it disengage.” 

You looked at him as if he were crazy, but since he insisted, you moved your wrist downward and made sure your fingers were out of the way in case it were to activate the blade underneath. 

Nothing. 

You tried again but only met with the same results. “Did I break it!” you exclaimed in a silent panic, as you weren’t sure why it wasn’t doing what you thought it would. 

Jacob stifled his laugh against his napkin when you struggled with his device. “No, it’s not broken,” he answered plainly. As you kept trying to roll your wrist about to press something, he laughed a bit louder. “I am having a jolly ol’ time watching you mess with that, by the way.” 

Stopping yourself, you scoffed at his words. “Alright, you smart ass,” you jabbed lightheartedly. “So you have some sort of special button I can’t press, I guess.” When Jacob offered his hand to have it back, you removed it carefully and handed it back to him so he could fasten it back upon his left hand once more. As he did so, he did the same quick jerking motion to make the blade pop out from its home. “How the hell…?” you asked in wonder. 

Letting the blade go dormant once more, he rested his hand on the table. “Each hidden blade gauntlet is tailored specially to each assassin. Not every method to engage the hidden blade is the same or as simple as you think it is,” he answered, finishing his meal and paying for his and yours without a second to spare. “It is to prevent our enemies from getting a hold of them and using our own weapon against us.” Getting to his feet, he offered his hand for yours. “Ready to go?” 

You were, as you had finished a bit before he had, and upon taking his hand, you made your way out onto the streets to spend a bit more time with him before you both journeyed home for the evening. 

Never would you find the idea of returning to your house to be a bit dull to you. The evening was divine, and you didn’t want to see it end, but here you were—at your doorstep soon enough. “Well, Jacob, I guess this is where I say goodnight to you?” You lowered your head to hide your blush as he was smirking at you. “I guess I am kind of new to this dating thing myself.” 

“I suppose I can respect that you won’t want me in your room tonight,” said Jacob, being rather to the point as always. 

You couldn’t resist yourself at that moment and playfully slapped the side of his arm with a wide-eyed look. “I swear, you fill my head and heart with sinful things when you say such words.” 

Jacob leaned forwards and whispered close to your ear. “That is the point.” 

The feel of his warm breath upon the cold winter air was inviting and made your heart squeeze in desire. “Alright,” you said, caving under his actions. “But, you’ll let me say what you’re allowed to do…right?” You didn’t want this to go too far, and if it did—well—you wanted to know you’d have a say in things. 

His usual joking and cocky behavior went stern, and he stared into your eyes long and hard. “I would not do anything you don’t wish of me to.” He motioned off to the side. “Your body is yours—it is not mine to do with as I please. If you gave me the honor to spend such a night with you, I would take it at your speed, love.” He moved his fingertips to your cheek, which was rosy from the weather and the thoughts racing through your head. 

You were nervous. So nervous you realized you hadn’t spoken in nearly a minute. Coming back to yourself, you nodded. “Come join me then, Jacob Frye,” you invited with a flirty smile, taking his hands and guiding him towards the door of your house. 

He didn’t need much coaxing, as he was already on his way well into the building without your guidance. It was soon he who was aiding you up the stairs and to your bedroom, but at a civilized pace. You swallowed your worry of what he would think of you in such a setting…an intimate setting. Would you even have the courage to go as far as you were imagining? 

The creaking of the door opening under Jacob’s command was almost the most jarring sound you had heard all day. The only thing afterwards that you could hear was your heart beating in your ears as you stepped into your own bedroom and waited for his directions on where to go from there. 

Your back to him, you tried to still your emotions by gripping tightly onto your dress; especially, when you felt his firm hands grab at your shoulders from behind. You stiffened, but that didn’t stop Jacob from moving his lips to your exposed neck where his rough beard teased your skin as he attempted to relax you. “I am not going to hurt you,” he whispered upon your shoulder as his palms drifted down your arms and to your own hands. His fingers interlacing with yours, he did his best to try and calm your nerves with his reassuring hold. “You just have to trust me, but if you don’t want to trust me tonight—I will respect that decision.” Here, he kissed slowly down your right arm. “Just being able to hold you like this is a reward on its own.” 

You were given the chance to speak about what you wanted to do, but words failed you. His breath was right there teasing your skin and his hands were touching yours—or rather—he was massaging your hands, it seemed, to try and get you to calm down. Would the night just end with you both in bed, or would you allow more to conspire before then?


	3. Dagger to the Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third part of Jacob Frye’s love letter~! As things go onward…will it be smooth sailing or will something else transpire? ;)
> 
> This one is a bit on the NC-17 side!

Your mind was foggy—full of thoughts that you never had before with any other man. Being playful with one another verbally was one thing, but now Jacob had you in his grasp and was insinuating where he wanted it to go from here with every touch, every kiss and every movement he made. His chest was pressing upon your back as he held your hands still. 

Shaking your mind clear of the mental haze, you held onto his hands tightly for support. “F-Forgive my silence,” you stuttered, causing Jacob to relent from his actions as he held your hands in an equal hold of support (since you unwittingly asked for it). “I wish I had an answer to give, but…words fail me…” You tried to laugh off your worries, as this was embarrassing for you to admit. 

Jacob moved his hands slowly from yours, and in his slow and steady actions, you assumed you had offended him in some way. Apparently, that was not the case, as his grip moved to your shoulders, and he ushered you around to look to him. He was being serious again. The light was dim, sure, you could see it easily in his expression and body language. 

“I told you that I would only do what you’d allow of me,” Jacob reminded you, his fingertips touching your cheek in a tender and welcoming manner. “If you just want to go to sleep tonight, I’ll gladly follow.” 

You tried to find humor in this moment, moving a stray hair from your face as you searched eagerly for your courage. “Even if it meant going to bed with me reading a book?” 

He shrugged his shoulders with a smirk accompanying his lips. “If you’ll read it to me, as reading is not my thing,” he chuckled. 

“Oh?” you inquired with a curious tilt of your head. “So you can write but can’t read?” You were just being facetious when you said such a thing. 

“In order for me to write, I have to know how to read,” Jacob jabbed back with a cock of his brow, seemingly stressing the word ‘read’ for whatever reason. “Books just bore me.” His words were quiet, but you easily heard him in the noiseless room. “Why do people sit and read about love, discovery, and adventure when you can go out there and make your own?” He threw his arms open curiously. “That’s what life is all about, isn’t it?” 

“Some people don’t have the time or the money, Jacob Frye, and it’s also not that easy,” you reminded him, cradling your elbows as he was walking towards your window at this moment to give you a moment to breathe. You were breathless from the earlier exchange, but you needed to regain yourself to think a bit more clearly on how you desired this evening to end. “Besides—.” Here, you reached for him to grab his hand once more. Just to feel of it made your heart race now….did so much change between you in so little time? “—some people read just to be taken elsewhere. It is nice to be somewhere else…in a more…pleasant place and time.” 

Jacob turned to you, taking your hand and holding it tightly before his forehead rested against yours. “I find myself in the most pleasant of places and time right here.” It was a poetic thing to say, but he didn’t correct or stop himself. “Will you, in time, say the same for me?” 

You were trapped by his touch and the look in his eyes. “Jacob…” you began slowly, struggling to find the proper thing to say. “…I don’t desire books to be taken away from you. If anything, before all of _this_ —you and I dating, I mean—you were the only thing that truly got me to find my feet in the morning.” 

Seemed that was the right response, as the leader of the Rooks gave a triumphant smile to that. “And the Blighter leader never did such a thing, eh?” 

“Mr. Roth?” you questioned with a shake of your head. “No. An amazing man, sure, but…he was a lot colder than I expected a gang leader to be. He only cares where money and fame can take him.” You had worked for Roth for long enough, one might say. You knew how he was and how he would step on anybody if he so desired to get his goals to be met. Now you wondered…how far would he go to bring down Jacob Frye? 

“Then I have little to worry of in terms of competition,” Jacob mused outwardly with a smile, his hands on your shoulders to bring you back to yourself and to his gaze since you were so busy muddling about the past. “(Y/N),” the assassin began, tilting your head up with his fingers resting under your chin. “let me be the one to love you.” 

His lips coming closer to yours, a small laugh breathed from your own. “I’ve already let you,” you whispered, your lips meeting to entice another kiss from him. 

The taste of his warm breath was more intoxicating than any drink you could ingest. Your hands moving to his top hat, you took it upon yourself to remove it and toss it off to the side so your fingers could move freely about his wild hair. 

It seemed he was intent just to kiss you and hold you close—not wishing to go further than what you had said you’d do prior. But, when you thought about it, you trusted him. He backed away when you stopped and expressed your nervousness, and it was obvious he would stop again if you so asked. Your hands pressing upon his chest, you migrated them to his sides and worked on removing his coat. 

As it had fallen to the floorboards below, he pulled from the kiss slowly with a curious look to his eyes. “Is this what you want?” he asked, a whisper so quiet that only the two of you would hear even if the room wasn’t crowded. 

Eyes shifting back and forth to think for a moment, you looked to him once more with determination in your stance. “Yes,” you answered simply at first. “I trust you.” 

“Alright then,” he began, moving his hands behind your back and working away at the gown you had bought with his money. “Just let me know if it becomes too much for you, and I will stop.”

Before you knew what to do with yourself, your dress was soon crumpled up upon the old floorboards of your home. You instinctive reaction was to embrace yourself and hide the fact that he was able to see you completely now minus your undergarments that were in place. His touch was gentle for a killer, as his fingertips graced your wrists, and he attempted to remove your arms from your body. “None of that now,” he insisted in a hoarse whisper, kissing your cheek to try and distract your mind. “I want to see you in your entirety.” 

A blush forming across your cheeks, your lower lip trembled as it struggled to find the words you needed to retaliate. “I am here standing nearly naked and you only have your coat off, Jacob,” you chuckled, explaining your behavior. 

“My apologizes,” Jacob sarcastically apologized, fondling with his upper clothing to let it slide away to the floor to accompany your gown. 

You figured he’d just stop there, but he started to unfasten his belt, and the sound of the buckle clinking about as he did so caused your body to freeze. With him standing in his own undergarments, you found yourself struggling not to size him up, so you did your best to stay fixated on his eyes. His arms open once more as it to parade himself, you caught your breath at the sight of his form. Average build with the raven tattoo upon his collarbone and a cross upon his upper left arm you never noticed before. Why would you have? You’ve not seen him this unclothed before. 

“And?” Jacob asked, not being shy about how he looked, it seemed. “Did you want me to continue, or did you want to have a go at it with undressing me further?” 

Never had you let a man get this far with you before. You always felt you had better things to focus on then dropping your clothes for a quick fling with someone you cared little for. Given the reins for the moment to take over, you hesitated. Your hands even went midway through the idea, but your fingers recoiled once you got close enough to reveal him completely. 

Seeing you struggle, Jacob grabbed your wrists and guided them to the rim of his underwear to encourage the idea further. “I don’t bite,” he reminded you with a chuckle. 

Of course not, but this was a whole other ballgame for you. Gathering the nerve you had, you quickly rid him of the remainder of his attire, but you dared not look right away as your heart was starting to hurt it was beating so hard. 

With you casting away your gaze quickly, Jacob grabbed onto your hands and helped you to your feet, so you wouldn’t be forced to do something you didn’t feel like doing right away. 

“Forgive me for being so…new to this.” You were being honest. Was he mad at you for taking so long to stop fumbling over yourself? You couldn’t tell as you lacked the confidence to look him in the eyes. 

“Just look at me,” Jacob insisted, trying to get you to do so with a gentle reassurance of his fingers against your cheek. “All of it will come in due time. I am in no rush for that.” 

You felt yourself settle down, feeling so relaxed by his speech. Sighing out your frustration on the cold air, your hands found their way to his hair once more. “Just love me before my nerve makes this last for far too long.” 

“I have all night,” the assassin reminded you, guiding your body towards the bedcovers where he hovered over you in a protective and loving way. “I told you I was in no hurry, and if your nerve tells you to stop, then I will listen.” 

Words failed you, as they seemed to be doing so well lately. With you unable to respond, Jacob began to kiss your lips once more, but trailed them away and down towards your neck where he took great pleasure in releasing you from the rest of the clothing that bound you. Yet again, he was gentle in his actions as he revealed the rest of you. Your body fully exposed at this point, he cradled your beasts, rolling his thumbs cautiously over your erect nipples. 

Feeling the euphoria starting to build, you hitched in breath and clutched the covers underneath you, as they were the only salvation you had to not just outright scream in excitement at the new feeling. The feel of his hands were rough and only added more to the growing sensation in your body, and those kisses he was so intent to use were soon replaced by his warm tongue caressing your body. 

“Oh, God…!” you gasped, as you felt his tongue teasing your left, sensitive nipple—his other hand occupying the other with his index and thumb finger. Your body quivered as his rough beard teased your exposed skin when his mouth enclosing upon the breast he was taking joy in ‘kissing’. Your right hand to your mouth, you used the back of it to try and stifle your growing and erratic breaths. 

Seemed he was done fondling with your breasts, as he last squeezed them with a tender kiss planted between them. Trailing his lips down your belly and then to your lower abdomen, you tensed your thighs in a mixture of desire and fear. He no doubt felt it and saw your legs move together as if to block his way, as his hands moved to try and quell your worry—those same rough palms toughing the outer part of your thighs to relax you. “You’re beautiful,” the assassin whispered hoarsely, gently massaging you from your hips down to your thighs to still try and ease you. “Do not be afraid.” 

Closing your eyes tightly, you swallowed your fear and did as he was physically asking of you: relaxing your legs for him to earn him easier passage. “It’s…it’s the coldest day of the year, and you make me feel so warm…!” you panted. 

Jacob stifled an overconfident laugh best he could as you felt his hands moving to your inner legs and dangerously close to your exposed womanhood. “Cheapest and safest way to get warm, I reckon,” he whispered, his breath teasing your swollen clit as he spoke before you felt his tongue flick upon the sensitive flesh—prompting a cry of excitement out of you. 

Your body nearly contorted to the right side, and you forgot you could easily hit him in the face with your knee if you did that, but he was quick to remind you he was there by raising his hand to stop you from moving and settle you upon your back once more. An apology didn’t escape from your lips. Your back arched as the assassin added to the pleasure already erupting through you from him teasing your clit as you felt him press his finger inside of you. 

“F-Fuck…!” you swore out, toes curling in excitement as you felt your body starting to actively sweat the longer he continued his actions. Biting your trembling lip, you whined as ecstasy was erupting through every inch of you. “J-Jacob…!” 

As his finger continued to probe and tempt the idea of something else coming within your warmth, Jacob eventually relented and let your body rest as he withdrew his mouth and finger from your body. Meddling with the dampness upon his index finger, he rubbed your inner leg as if to coax you into calming yet again. “Am I being too intrusive by asking if this is your first time?” 

You struggled to find your breath. Your hand near your mouth again as you breathed upon the small fist you created to still your racing heart and mind, you looked to him with your lidded eyes and hesitantly nodded. “I-I’ve not been…with a man like this…at all…” 

Jacob hummed in thought. Gathering some sort of unspoken idea, he moved up your body and was intent on keeping your gaze from looking at what he had to offer for some reason. Was he embarrassed by it, or was he worried what you’d think in general? Either way, his hand was upon your chin and kept you focused on his eyes. “Just stay focused on me, yeah? This may or…may not hurt…I am not sure,” he admitted, as he wasn’t too familiar with your body. “But, you’re a Rook, yeah? I imagine you’ve endured worse.” 

“Th-That’s not exactly relaxing to hear, Jacob…!” you stammered, curious what he meant when he said it ‘may hurt’. 

He chuckled, resting his forehead against yours. “In the end, know it is not my intention to harm you, so let me know if you want to stop.” 

As you waited for this pain, you felt the head of his erection press against your entrance and ask to be let in. your breath hitched in pain at just the head of it coming inside of you, and now you realized why he was preventing you from looking at it: so you wouldn’t feel intimidated. Your face contorted in discomfort more than pleasure this time, Jacob moved his arms about to try and urge you to hold onto him. 

“Come on then,” he insisted breathlessly, moving his own underneath you in an equal embrace. “Just hold onto me…!” 

Moving your legs instinctively to his lower back, you heeled him eagerly to try and just get him inside if that would make the pain stop. Jacob didn’t act on it right away, as he was obviously trying not to cause you more distress in being rough. His muscles flexed, and he started a steady rhythm to try and adjust your body to his size. 

Crying out in a mixture of pleasure and pain without restraint this time, your nails dug into his back—pricking his skin. Your mind went foggy as the foreign, yet welcome sensation built up within you the further on he went. Your throat dry from all of the euphoric moans that had escaped you, Jacob’s lips silenced you as he started to sloppily (or eagerly, perhaps) kiss you. 

He didn’t warn of his coming release. All you had to do was feel the sticky, warm sensation fill your body to realize he had. It triggered your own climax shortly after. Your lubricated walls squeezed him for all he was worth shortly after as your nails dug so harshly into his back you probably cut him. Your breath and his upon the chill in the air, you struggled to come back to yourself after the experience. His balmy breath caressed your cheek as he moved to nuzzle you there before replacing it with a tender kiss. 

When you didn’t react right away, he gently nudged you with his inner thigh. “How do you feel?” His voice was heavy and labored as he spoke there in the darkness of the room. 

“I-I’m alright…!” you managed to speak, moving your arms and legs from him slowly so that he could move if he so desired. “That was…” Your words halted as you felt Jacob slowly pull his spent erection from you, making you bite your lower lip as it escaped the tight confines of your body. Eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head, you finally found yourself able to relax. “That was enjoyable…and…leaves me breathless…!” You laughed weakly at the irony of your last comment. 

Jacob scoffed as he moved off of you then and just let your body rest from the experience. Since you both were still resting on top of the covers, he nudged you gently again. “Get up for a second,” he insisted, allowing him to pull the covers off of the bed, so you both could get comfortable for the remaining hours of the night.

As the two of you settled down together, you found yourself resting upon his chest with his arm around you—just staring casually at the ceiling. Your fingers mingling with his, you struggled to think of a topic until one approached you. “So you never did tell me much about yourself,” you pointed out. 

You felt his chest heave in a sort of laughter sigh mixture. “My life is an open book. What did you want to know, love?” 

“Anything,” you answered with a shrug. 

“Well, I was born in Crawley to Ethan and Cecily Frye—younger twin to Evie Frye—my mother died during childbirth, so I never got to know her, and my father was very rarely around, and when he was, I never listened to the bloke.” 

You could hear a sort of bitterness in his tone when he expressed such things, so you tried not to press the idea further. “And this assassin training of yours? When did that start?” 

“When I was five, give or take,” he admitted, scratching an itch upon his beard. “You can hardly remember a bloody thing when you’re a young lad. Honestly, it just feels like it’s been all my life that I did assassin training.” 

“And when you’re not out beating on people, you’re usually at the train?” you asked with a teasing smile up to him. 

He looked down to you with a smirk. “No, I spend it in brawls if given the chance,” he chuckled, causing his chest to shake as he did so. “Sitting around is not my thing.” 

“Which is why you find reading boring?” 

His fingers dug into your side to try and tickle you as retaliation for your words. “Are you going to harbor that against me now, love?” When all you did was laugh at his reaction, he shrugged his shoulders with a crease of his brow. “Not every bloke has to enjoy in the written word.” 

“I suppose not,” you chuckled, outstretching your arm across his chest, closing your eyes to enjoy in the hypnotic rhythm of his breathing. His fingers moved to your head where he began to gentle massage your scalp and tease your hair. Apparently, that would be all it would take to lull you to sleep.

 

\--

 

The sound of the birds chirping was what acted as your alarm the next day. Stirring in bed, you found yourself awake with nobody beside you. “Jacob…?” you moaned exhaustedly, wondering if he was anywhere nearby. 

He was gone. Sprawling out across the bed that only had you, you just enjoyed the moment of lying on the bed alone for a second until your eyes saw an enclosed letter with a red rose resting upon it. A smile spread upon your lips as you lazily reached for the flower and letter. Opening the message and keeping the flower nearby, you read over the words Jacob had scribbled down.

 

To my dearest (Y/N), 

Forgive me for not being there with you. Unfortunately, there is no rest for the wicked, as they say, and my job as an assassin is never done. I had news on another target of mine, and I had to dash quickly, so I’ll chat with you later, I am sure. 

Words will fail me if I try to explain how much I enjoyed myself last night, and I fear I must be quick to continue on my hunt, so I’ll keep this brief: Thank you for the pleasurable evening. We’ll have to do it again sometime. 

Also, thank you for trusting me with your heart and body. To say it was an honor would be such a pathetic way to explain how I truly feel about the matter. 

Be safe, my little Rook. Love you dearly. 

Yours truly, 

 

Jacob Frye 

P.S. I remembered the flower. Keep it and enjoy its presence till I return. 

A blush across your cheeks, you moved your messy hair out of your way as you folded back up the letter after rereading it a few more times and placed it with the other in the drawer of the nightstand. As much as you wish you could just take an ‘in day’, you knew that you would find more enjoyment out on the streets of London to distract from the idea of Jacob being busy, so, grabbing up your Rook outfit, you got dressed and fixed up for the evening to head out and chat with the other Rooks. 

 

You didn’t speak to them about what you had been doing with your time. While you knew they wouldn’t judge you or care, you just felt your love life wasn’t really anybody’s business. Well, not unless it went somewhere beyond dating, and you didn’t want everyone to know who your one weakness was. As you casually hung out in an abandoned backyard near a fire with a few Rooks, you heard the whispers of some of the gang members picking up and gaining your attention…especially when you heard the word ‘Blighters’. 

Raising your head up from the book you had decided to read for the day, you marked the spot you were at with your thumb as you noticed the Blighters coming in to stare down the Rooks that were there. You all were easily outnumbered if they decided to do anything, even if the Rook brutes were ready to do something while the gunmen aimed in preparation. 

“Relax, you dogs!” shouted one of the female Blighters. “We’re just here looking for (Y/N) for Maxwell Roth! Have you seen her?” 

You were confused. Why would you be singled out of everybody? “I am (Y/N),” you responded boldly when nobody dared to expose you. Putting away your book and taking a few courage filled steps forwards, you looked to the Blighters curiously. “What does Maxwell Roth want with me?” 

The woman chuckled at your nervous yet curious behavior. “Don’t piss yourself, love,” she smirked, handing over an invitation. “Mr. Roth was just wants to speak with you…in private. You know where he lives.” And with that said, she turned away with the other Blighters. “Come when you’re ready!” She added. “But don’t leave him waiting!” 

You fidgeted with the invitation. Even upon opening it, it was just a ‘you’ve been invited’ invitation that was so like Roth whenever he wanted to scold or punish any Blighters who didn’t perform as needed. But…why you? What did he want with you out of all the ‘traitors’? 

You asked for the other Rooks not to speak of the letter to anybody, and that you would go of your own accord. Inwardly, you were curious and wanted to see what Roth was going to ask of you. The sight of, what was once so common, became so alien to you. That theater that Maxwell Roth delighted in staying in soon surrounded you as you were escorted to his presence by the doorman waiting there. 

“Ah!” came Roth’s voice, as he stood up from the decorative chair he sat upon on the stage in the empty theater. “There you are, darling! I was waiting so eagerly for your arrival!” He took to an empty chair, as he always did when plotting something, and motioned for you to sit. “Come on then. Have a seat!” 

Still, you were uncertain of where this evening was going, and at first you declined. “Mind if I stand?” you asked curiously, not wanting to piss off a man you knew could easily have you killed in no time at all. For all you knew, there could be gunmen in the balconies looking down at you right then and there, but you didn’t think to take in your surroundings. 

“Always so pessimistic you are, dear!” Roth laughed that same gravelly laugh, motioning his hands about like any performer would to get the point across. “But, I will get down to the point.” He continued to muddle about with the objects and food lining his dining table as he spoke casually. “You think me mad about my Blighters becoming Rooks under the infamous Jacob Frye, yes?” 

You weren’t sure what to say. Was this a trick question? You shrugged your shoulders, as you’d imagine he would be, but Maxwell Roth was a complex piece of human art, to say the least. “I suppose so.” 

“I was,” Roth answered eagerly, but laughed shortly afterwards. Odd, but he always was an odd man. “Now, if I wanted to, my dear, I could have you executed right where you stand.” 

Your blood ran cold, yet you slowly reached for your gun on your hip. If he was going to kill you, you weren’t going to go down without a fight, or at least putting a bullet in his head. 

“Relax, darling,” sneered the boss of the Blighters, eyeing your hand that was resting upon your gun. “I have come to offer you a means of acquiring my forgiveness.” 

“And if I don’t want it?” you asked quickly. 

“Ah, my dearest, (Y/N),” Roth began, moving towards you with his arms outstretched as if he desired to embrace you. You took a step back, not wanting him to come any closer, but that mattered little as his hands were soon upon your cheeks—cradling your face whether you wanted him to or not. “Would you honestly say such things when I could have those closest to you taken away?” 

You hitched in breath at thinking of your family and friends…all the people Maxwell Roth had a means of knowing personally for occasions such as this. “Wh-Why did you choose me? What do you want from me?” you demanded to know, jerking your face away from his slimy touch. 

“Why?” Roth asked, laughing loudly at your innocent question. “Why indeed!” His arms spread apart before he gripped onto your upper shoulders in a very unwelcome manner. “I am no fool, (Y/N). I know that assassin has been sneaking about your home as of late, and a lad would only do such a thing if he has his heart set on someone.” 

Your throat felt dry and your heart squeezed in fear when he mentioned such things. Honestly, you couldn’t be surprised at how informative he was. Blighters were everywhere…and it was probably a foolish thing to assume one or two didn’t see you together. 

 “So it is true,” he grinned, as if to stumble upon your secret. Obviously, your body language gave you away before anything else could be said. “Excellent.” The word was the most unwelcoming thing he could say, as it prompted a shiver up your spine. 

His grip loosened and he released you, moving to the table once more to pull up a seemingly innocent dagger. “And this assassin—he trusts you, yes?” Roth pried further, pushing the end of the blade against the fine tablecloth and spinning it intently. 

“H-He does,” you said simply, not liking where this is going, but you were at Maxwell Roth’s mercy whether you liked it or not. 

“Good,” said your former gang leader. “I want you to kill him.” 

Your eyes widened and you inhaled sharply at such a request. “B-But how can I take down a master assassin!” you exclaimed, grabbing at your chest, as it was hurting at the idea of committing such an act on Jacob. “He-I…I can’t do that—!” 

In a matter of seconds, the blade was held close to your throat, threatening to spill your blood right then and there. “And if you don’t do it, my darling, it will be by MY hands that I tear him apart and show him no mercy after you watch me do so!” he threatened, saliva marring your face in the process of getting his words across. 

You dared not swallow again no matter how unpleasant it was not to do so. One false move and that dagger could cut you. 

“As for how…” Roth’s anger simmered, and he removed the blade slowly to show it to you. “If the lad is in love with you, you can kill him in the middle of the night without a worry, as he won’t suspect a thing.” 

Closing your eyes tightly to prevent the tears from coming forth, you didn’t answer, but yet again, your body language gave you away no doubt as Roth forced the blade into your hand. “Use this,” he instructed. “It is my own personal dagger, and I want you to come back with his blood on that blade, or I will take great joy in taking down those you care for.” 

Your grip on it was weak, but you kept it as ordered and quickly left the theater to get away—just to run—hide—break down…something…anything. You were so choked up over the idea that you’d have no choice but to kill the man who meant the most to you that you weren’t even sure what to do or where to go. Finding a spot just under a cobblestone bridge, you leaned against the cold underside of the handmade foundation and began to cry. The dagger removed from your grip and falling to the street below you as you hadn’t the will to wield it. 

Those you love—both sides of such a coin—were being used against you in a deadly game of chance. If you told Jacob, no doubt those closest to you would be reported dead. If you chose not to kill him…same thing. But if you chose to kill the assassin, you’d lose the man you loved as well as weaken London’s only hope for revival. 

All through the day and night you begged for strength…a sign…anything that could make this easier. You fondled with the blade that Roth had given you well into the evening hours waiting for Jacob, and for once, you hoped he wouldn’t come. If Jacob didn’t come, then you could put off this mission and wait for a better answer to all of this. 

But such a fate was not to befall you. The door to your house opened and you could hear Jacob calling you from downstairs. Stuffing the blade quickly under the pillow, you worked on wiping away your tears quickly. “I-I’m upstairs, Jacob!” you knew your voice sounded shaky and gave away the fact you had been crying, but trying to act stone faced about the idea of killing someone you fell for was not an easy task. 

His footsteps got louder and louder as he hurried towards the bedroom door, and upon opening it, he hurried towards you. “Hey,” he began gently, kneeling down in front of you as he saw you were in emotional pain. “You’ve been crying? What is wrong?” he asked, trying to dry your eyes. 

You shook your head, not having the courage to explain to him what happened. Was there any good way to say that you had become his hunter against your will? Not really… “It’s nothing, Jacob,” you lied, holding onto his wrist to still his motions to try and dry your tears. “I just…ill thoughts came my way is all…” 

Jacob wasn’t sure what to say about the matter. He couldn’t force you to speak about it, so he reached for you and embraced you in a reassuring way. 

 

It was like that for hours, and even just having him there to try and steady your heart and mind was making you lose your nerve all the more for what you were asked to do. Soon he was asleep, but you were restless. Turning to look upon him, you moved in the bed to sit upon the bedside, and as Roth had predicted, Jacob didn’t react as you’d expect an assassin to if he felt the slightest movement nearby. 

He was calm—relaxed around your presence, and it was there you had weakened him unknowingly. Thoughts racing through your head, you stilled your desire to sob best you could. Your hand casually reaching for the dagger you had put away under your pillow, you looked to the designs upon it and shook your head. 

_I can’t do this…_ you thought to yourself as you bit your lower lip to stop your moaning of discontent. But, you had family and friends to think of…those of which that would be gleefully tortured and or hung just for your disobedience in this matter, and so you slowly rose to your feet on their behalf. 

Standing over Jacob now with his back turned to you, you gripped the dagger uneasily in one hand. The times spent with him were flooding you now as if to stop your course of action. Grabbing it with both hands, you raised it shakily above your head and just as you threatened to move downward, Jacob moaned in his sleep and turned over, causing you to stop and move backwards a step in worry he might have woken. 

Nothing. He was just turning in his sleeping. 

You breathed a sigh of relief that he wouldn’t catch you in an incriminating act, but it was there you knew you couldn’t do it even as you raised the dagger back up and above your head to try. He was lying there…helpless…defenseless…and all because you calmed his senses with this powerful emotion called ‘love’. 

“I am sorry, Jacob…” you whispered quietly, your lips trembling as you did so. And with that said, you moved the weapon downwards in a quick motion so you wouldn’t stall any longer—the dagger cutting flesh and spilling blood. 

Jacob’s eyes widened at that moment as he felt blood splatter upon his face, and he inhaled sharply at the sound of you screaming. He was awoken now by the sound of pain and the smell of copper. As he did so, he was in disbelief at seeing you standing there with your back hunched and a dagger embedded within your gut all the way through. 

“(Y/N)!” he screamed in disbelief, removing the covers from his body and hurrying over towards you as you had fallen to your knees at this point. “What have you done!” he yelled, moving his hand quickly to yours to pull it off of the dagger and have him remove it quickly from your body. “Wh-Why!” he exclaimed in disbelief, grabbing his own shirt to cover the wound you had caused in hopes to kill yourself. “Why would you do this!” 

You struggled to speak and even stay conscious at this point. Regardless of your sight being hazy and being in unspeakable pain, you could see his own inward agony as he was…crying…? You had never seen him do that before. “I…had to…” you struggled to say, as the air felt like it was getting thinner. “He wanted…me…to kill you…” 

His eyes shifting about in thought, he ignored your words and hissed at you demandingly. “Stay with me, (Y/N)!” When you threatened to close your eyes, he shook you fervently. “Stay with me, God dammit!” He quickly left you for a moment to grab up his clothes and threw them on sloppily before picking you up and running to the streets. 

You botched it. Even if Jacob managed to save you…what then? Everything was going to be on a dangerous scale that could easily tip to the depths of hell.


	4. Healing Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A story where Jacob stays by your side as you attempt to recover from your own injury from the last imagine. Enjoy, my lovelies~! Thanks for the idea and continued support~!

You had damned yourself to suffer. Just stabbing yourself in the stomach was causing constant pain that wouldn’t end and blood to soak your nightgown and Jacob’s own clothes and hand. He was trying so hard to stop the bleeding, but it seemed relentless given the massive wound you gave yourself willingly. 

Constantly, you struggled to stay conscious, but even after awhile of Jacob’s yelling and shaking you in his weak attempts to keep you focused, nothing felt as though it would work, and you began to encounter blackout periods. 

Bits and pieces rattled in the back of your mind, but nothing you said or did rang as vividly as other memories during your struggle.

 The carriage…Jacob yelling for you to stay with him…then the hospital building coming ever so closely into view as the assassin tried with all his might to get you help. He had stopped right at the door and banged upon its wooden surface with such fervor that you thought for sure it would break from what you could vaguely remember. 

Maybe you said something, or perhaps you whined your discontent with the pain still numbing your body, for Jacob turned to settle you so. “I know; I know!” He was breathless from the running he had been doing, and his face easily conveyed how panicked and worry stricken he was from the unforeseen act prior. 

Since the nurses were taking awhile to answer him, you remember him kneeling down to the ground with your body still cradled in his arms. His blooded hand to your face to check on you, he looked you over with concern wrinkling his brow before you saw the doors open at that moment and a gowned nurse appeared—taking Jacob’s attention from you quickly. 

Blacked out…again…all you could remember were distorted and distant voices. 

“What’s all this then!” exclaimed the faceless woman in the back of your mind. 

“She stabbed herself—in the stomach!” came Jacob’s voice shortly after. 

“Goodness…! Should she not be at the asylum then?” 

“ ** _NO!_** ” bellowed Jacob as you felt the pain trigger anew as he was no doubt moving you about at this point. “She’s bloody reckless—not crazy! Just help her, dammit!” 

Sounds of items moving and people talking as well as pain jabbing at you now and again were the only things to embrace you in the darkness of your mind. Images would fade in and out, but the one thing you could remember was that bright candlelight shining in your face now and again as the nurse brought it close enough to get a better view of the situation with the doctor assigned to your injury. 

“Whose blood is this now? Are you alright!” That voice…you’d heard it a few times when you tried to help with missions. That was Evie Frye. 

“It’s hers.” Jacob sounded a bit calmer now. Maybe tired…actually? It was hard to say without his actions in clear view as you struggled to come back to yourself. “I am fine…relatively speaking, anyways.” 

Evie sounded in disbelief. “How did this happen?” 

“I don’t know. I just woke in the middle of the night with her stabbing herself.” You heard him shuffle for a moment. Sounded like his hands had slapped upon his thighs as if to shrug. “She said she ‘had to do this’, and told me that someone was asking her to kill me.” 

“Who do you think would ask such a thing?” murmured Evie.

 Jacob’s voice tried a weak attempt to be lighthearted. “Aside from the many Templars and Blighters out to ruin me? Take your pick, dear sister.” He sighed and whispered an almost incoherent, “Sod it all.” 

“You should rest, brother,” Evie coaxed, her voice getting a bit louder for a moment as it seemed she and Jacob were standing deathly close to you. “The hours have not been kind to you.” 

“I need to be here.” 

Your fingers twitched as you slowly regained yourself amidst the twin’s talking. Eyes opening to the dimly lit scene, everything slowly came into focus. Jacob was sitting in a chair not far from your right side with Evie at your bedside talking with him. The two were so engrossed with one another, they hadn’t noticed you had regained consciousness. 

“If something happens, I don’t want to be bleedin’ miles from here when she needs me the most,” you heard Jacob continue as he was lightly beating his fist against his thigh to get the message across. “She lost so much blood that if she dies here, I need…” he paused, the sound of leather stretching as he curled his fist tighter. “…I need to be here in her final moments, should they come.” 

Inhaling shakily, you flinched from the pain still there in your stomach that was starting to pulse through your entire body. “J-Jacob…” you said weakly. 

Jacob spun around quickly at the sound of your voice as did Evie take attention. “(Y/N)!” he exclaimed quietly, getting dangerously close to you with eagerness guiding his actions to see if you were alright. It was then and there you saw how red your blood had stained his assassin attire. You would have thought he had been brutally stabbed himself with it smeared all over him so. “Are you alright!” 

“Don’t get so close, Jacob!” Evie scolded, grabbing his shoulder to try and pull him back down. “She needs to breathe, for God’s sake.” 

It was so hard to talk. The pain was indescribable, and you released a muffled moan of discontent to express it so. “It…it hurts…” you murmured, rolling your teeth across your lower lip. “Fuck…it hurts…!” You wanted to move the covers off of you to see what you had done—what the doctor’s had done to save you—but Jacob was intent to still your curious hand. 

“You need to lie still,” Jacob instructed before nodding to Evie. “Get a nurse!” 

Evie didn’t need to be told twice, and she quickly exited the area to fetch one. 

Jacob remained there still and did his best to keep you steady and focused. His fingertips touching your cheek to get you to look at him, he kept searching your eyes for something. “Evie’s going to get a nurse to help with the pain. Do you need me to do anything?” 

When you didn’t respond right away, he snapped his fingers in front of your face like some child he was trying to gain the attention of. The sound was loud and unwanted with everything going on, but it caused you to focus all the same so as not to hear it again. 

“Hey, look at me,” he demanded. “Did you need anything?” 

“W-Water…” you begged, as you felt thirsty from the blood you had lost. 

Jacob flinched, as if you asked him the one thing he could not do. “I-can’t get that for you,” he said softly, grabbing your wrists at this point to pin them to the bedside. “The nurse instructed me not to, as it could harm you more with the injury you gave yourself.” 

You would have questioned why, but another bad rake of pain struck you, and you screamed pathetically as you wanted it to end. “Make it stop…!” 

“Hold still! You’re going to hurt yourself more if you do this shit!” Jacob hissed a bit more angrily, as you were trying to move to your side in a weary attempt to find some position that might lessen the pain. When you continued to struggle against him, he turned and shouted over his shoulder. “ ** _EVIE!_** ” 

Nobody came. Seemed Jacob was just shouting in hopes his sister would hear. 

Your body weakening as you started to feel a horrible chill, Jacob turned to you and, upon removing his glove, pressed the back of his hand against your forehead before switching to his palm to check your temperature. “God, you’re burning up.” Scrunching his face in worry, he shouted louder this time. “ ** _EVIE! I NEED YOU!_** ” 

It would be awhile yet for Evie to return with a nurse finally. The young nurse hurried over to the other side of you with a bottle of medicine clearly clasped in her hand. 

“She’s shaking, as if crippled by a chill, and fever stricken at the same time!” Jacob announced in concern, still trying to keep you pinned. 

“I have the medicine for her pain, but I will need something else for the fever,” the nurse reminded the assassins as she prepared your relief. 

“What do you need?” Evie asked before Jacob had a chance. 

“Back where we were,” she instructed to Evie with a wild motion of her hand. “It is labeled on the counter and should be easy for you to find!” 

The twins exchanged glances before Evie fled the scene once more to get what was needed. 

The night felt endless. Even with the pain medicine administered, it took it long while for it to its job. You were sweating so badly that you felt your gown sticking to you rather unpleasantly until the nurse and Jacob removed it from you so that blankets could be used to conceal you better. Even with all the moving and unclothing of your body, you only saw for a moment the wound. A bandage was wrapped firmly about your stomach—trailing up to your ribs, it seemed—and it was already so bloody that you figured it might need to be changed sometime soon. 

Was this going to be it? Were you going to die of a fever or blood loss? The room was spinning and, yet again, staying conscious was becoming a challenge. The sights and sounds beginning to blur, you passed out again. 

\--

 

It felt like a dream when you found yourself able to open your eyes to a different room. A bed made for two, fine wallpaper decorating the walls, and well maintained wood that held the room together. It wasn’t the hospital, and it wasn’t your own room either…so where were you now? 

Pain was till very much there as you attempted to take in your surroundings. The very first thing that caught your eyes was Jacob in the decorative chair just under the windowsill, where the dawn light poured in, to the left of you. He was without his trench coat, leg up to support his arm as the back of his hand was under his jaw line in a lazy pose. He was asleep, mouth slightly agape as he snored softly to show he was out cold. 

You hated the idea of waking him, but you wanted to know what happened…how long were you out? “J-Jacob…?” you called softly, but he didn’t move. “Jacob…” you said again in hopes he would hear you this time. 

Closing his mouth, his eyes slowly opened to the sound of his name being called. Turning to you, he moved from where he was at the chair and (almost drunkenly) stumbled to your bedside. “(Y/N)…” he said in exhausted reprieve. “How do you feel?” As he asked such a question, he moved his knuckles to your cheek to test your temperature. 

“Still in pain…starving…thirsty…” you said with a harsh and ragged swallow. “Wh-Where am I…?” 

“The hospital was low on rooms for its patients,” Jacob sighed, moving his hand to the teapot nearby on the nightstand to pour water into a cup. “They had told me they needed to move you down to the lower rooms of the hospital, which…if you’ve not seen that area, they have so many bodies next to one another, that the chances of you catching something ghastly would be quite high. Also, their number of nurses is rubbish, and you’d not get the attention you needed.” 

He paused in his explanation, moving closer to you now with his arm moving underneath the pillow that your head rested on to support you better. Moving the porcelain teacup’s rim to your lips, he aided you in drinking. He was cautious not to make you choke, pulling the cup from your mouth ever so often to let you swallow. The water was heavenly and welcomed as it worked on rejuvenating your body. It felt like you had been through the desert without a drop of anything to aid you and now, your long journey had been rewarded. 

“I bought this housing here to watch you myself,” Jacob explained further, putting the empty teacup down on the nightstand once more. “The train wouldn’t have done you any good, and if Roth finds out you’re alive, he’ll go to your house and kill us both.” 

You felt your blood run cold at him mention Roth. “Y-You know…?” 

Jacob raised his brow at your question and sighed out a ‘yeah’ as he moved the covers off of you to look back at the wound on your stomach. “One of your friends came forwards and told me that Roth had sent an invitation to you. I don’t need much more information than that.” You felt the pressure on your injury loosen as he began to undo the dressing concealing it so. He felt you flinch and tense your stomach under his touch making him shush you with assurance he had to mess around and make sure you were healing right. “He no doubt knows I am still alive, but he doesn’t know you are, and I plan on keeping that a secret from him.” 

You were quiet. The first thing you wanted to do was apologize for this madness, but you still had questions that needed answers. “How long…was I out…?” 

“I need to bathe you,” you heard Jacob mutter under his breath as he grabbed up a wooden bowl he had at the bedside. “You were out for three weeks,” he answered, putting the bowl on the nightstand where he found room and began to lay strips of gauze into it to soak. “You were in and out of consciousness, but you we were able to get some water into you when you came around during the first week, so you didn’t shrivel up.” 

Furrowing your brow, you wanted to swallow the apology that was about to come from your mouth, but you knew he deserved it. “J-Jacob…I am sorry…about this…” 

“Hush now,” he ordered, his focus on the bowl and linen he had placed in it to soak. “If you’re going to flap your gob, don’t let it be towards an apology that’s not needed.” 

“I-I tried to kill you…!” you pointed out weakly. “I think that’s enough of a reason to…!” 

“And here you lie,” Jacob explained, turning to look at you, “with a bloody hole in your gut.” His face was as somnolent as it was serious. You could tell he probably hadn’t slept well in weeks. “As far as I’m concerned, it was Roth’s hand on that knife you had and not yours, and even then—you took the attack for me.” 

With the gauze removed from the wooden bowl, Jacob carefully cradled it and moved it towards your wound to re-dress it once more. It was medicine. It stung like fire once it connected with the stab wound. “God dammit…that hurts…!” you groaned, biting your lower lip. 

“It will subside in a bit, love,” Jacob assured you as he finished wrapping your belly. Upon finishing, he turned to you with a curious look. “Can you wait here while I get the bath ready? I need to fetch the water, as I wasn’t expecting you to be this awake.” 

“Like I can go anywhere…?” you asked with a dismal laugh. 

“Right,” Jacob chuckled in return, moving to kiss your forehead before taking his leave from the room. 

You found it within yourself to try and just rest your eyes since the pain was still gnawing away at you with the medicine trying to combat any would be disease you might have gotten from a used blade. Even if Jacob was out of sight, you could hear him rubbing something against the floorboards in the other room followed by the sound of water being poured somewhere—the tub, of course. 

His feet hastily making their way back to you, you opened your eyes to him so as not to have him curious if you had fallen asleep again. “Ready?” he asked, kneeling down beside you. 

You gave a reluctant nod as you didn’t desire to be moved, but you knew you couldn’t lie in bed forever or it could cause more harm than good. 

“Alright, arm around me then,” Jacob instructed as he moved his behind your back and cradled you just under your other arm. As he pushed the covers out of your way, he directed your leg over the side of the bed before escorting the other afterwards to allow you to feel of the floorboards beneath you. “Let’s get you to walk, yeah? Up.” 

Never would you think a stomach lesion would hurt so much, but trying to move your body was hell. As you moved about, you worried you might actually cause the thread, which had sewn together your wound, would break apart and you’d bleed out again. Not to mention you hadn’t decent food or much water, so your legs felt like jelly with no strength to encourage them. 

“Slowly now,” Jacob reminded you, trying to get you to lean on him in the process as he moved you into the living room area where he had dragged the tub. It was a simple, porcelain tub, which was oval shaped, colored in off-white with a fake, golden rim and could fit one body within it. Since he needed to remove your gown, he slowly lowered you down to the stool nearest it for a moment with his body there behind you in case you felt too heavy to keep yourself upright. 

“I feel like a child,” you whispered, hating that Jacob had to go through such lengths for you—doing things for you that you once could do yourself. The gown coming up and over your head, you complied by raising your arms for him to get it the rest of the way off as needed. “I should be able to do this…myself…” 

“Well, you’ve been ill for weeks and not properly fed, so, I can understand,” said Jacob in your defense. Folding up the gown and putting it off to the side, he helped you to stand once more before slowly lowering you into the water. 

It was lukewarm at best and made you cringe to feel it embrace your body so. Sitting at last, you rested your head against one end of the tub only to have Jacob insist otherwise. 

“I need you to sit upright for me, love,” he instructed, moving his hand to your eyes while the other had grabbed a jug of water to pour it over your head to get you completely wet as needed. Removing his hand from your face, he made sure the water was away from your eyes before working on cleaning you completely. 

It was silent throughout most of the bathing process, but you weren’t sure what to say. Many times you opened your mouth to speak but the words got caught in your throat, and you dared not force them. “You look tired,” you finally whispered as he was digging his fingers gently into your hair to try and clean the roots of the strands. “Have you not slept well…?” 

“Mm,” you heard him hum. Soon, a weak laugh arose from his throat. “I’ll sleep when I am dead.” 

You rolled your eyes playfully at his comment even if he wouldn’t be able to see it. “How long do you expect to live, Jacob Frye, if you push yourself like this?” 

“For as long as London needs me—as long as the Brotherhood does—my sister…” he paused as he flicked his hands free of water for the time being, grabbing a towel that he would use to dry you. “…for as long as you need me.” Taking the towel, he worked on drying your head first before placing it off to the side and moving to the tub to instruct you to hold onto him so he could remove you from the water and work on drying the rest of you. 

“You’re still intent to be with me…after what a pawn I was in this game…?” you asked bewildered as to why he would still be intent to remain ever so in your life. 

The assassin continued to work on drying you after he got you to sit down on the stool for him to do so. As he was drying your legs, he looked at you from just under his top hat as if that was a silly question you just asked given how he wrinkled his brow. “You stabbed yourself to save me,” he reminded you. “I don’t have to question if you’d protect my heart, because you very well did in a literal sense.” Grabbing up your nightgown, he helped you back into it before escorting you back to the bed. “You could have easily killed me that night, and with how in love I am, I would have let you even if my Creed should insist I do otherwise.” 

When you thought about it, you never knew much about his assassin heritage beyond the fact he was an assassin—trained to fight and kill the Templars and anybody who got in his way. Finding peace upon the bed’s mattress once more, you let him situate you back under the covers with a curious gaze to him. “What’s it like…to kill…another person…?” 

Jacob rubbed a weary palm over his drooping eyes. He was so tired, and you felt awful you were probably a cause of it. “Why do you ask questions such as this?” he asked with a dry laugh. 

“I am just curious. Humor me,” you insisted from where you were resting. 

Pulling his chair a bit closer to the bed, he cleared his throat while prepping an answer. “Numbing, I guess.” As he situated himself in the chair, he shrugged his shoulders before clasping his hands between his legs. “You see a bloke’s blood spill ever since you were a young lad, and it is not as jarring as you’d think. Doing it yourself, well…” He paused and offered another shrug of his brow and shoulders. “…It’s not personal. I was trained to be a killer, so I make it my business to be a killer. I have targets, though. The world is not my playground in this murderous life I was born into.” 

You found it odd someone such as him could kill so ruthlessly. He seemed so passionate and gentle when spoken to in private. Sure, he had inner rage and anger you didn’t want to tap upon, but you assumed that had something to do with his past life. “To take a life so freely…” you mused aloud, looking to the ceiling. “…I couldn’t do it…Roth wanted us to be merciless, but I never allowed myself to befall such a fate as the other Blighters.” You shook your head slowly. “The others did the blood spilling, but I preferred to stay from the idea…” 

Jacob let the silence sit after your confession before speaking up, the chair he was in moaning as he inched closer to you. “You asked your questions, now let me ask mine. What did Roth hold over you to make you consider killing me?” 

Sighing slowly, you clenched your fists as the pain in your stomach triggered when you did such a thing. “My loved ones…” you whimpered more from the emotional pain than the physical. 

“Seems he would,” he grumbled, moving his palm against his mouth to think. “You’re going to have to tell me where they live, love,” Jacob insisted, leaning forwards a bit more. “If you do that, I can get them out of here safely.” 

You never got along well with your family, but the idea of them dying on your behalf was not something you wished for. Nodding at his suggestion, you bit at your lower lip before giving him the answer. “Last I remember…they were living in Whitechapel.” Turning to Jacob, you pleaded with your eyes as they began to shine with tears. “He will find them and kill them before you if you so much as give away the idea you’re looking for them…” 

“I can handle Roth,” Jacob sneered, wanting to even the score for what he had allowed to transpire. 

“Jacob, don’t—!” you stopped yourself from shouting as you could tell you were being rather aggressive. “—don’t be cocky…” you said a bit calmer. “You don’t know Roth like I do…he will kill you.” 

He sighed angrily at your words (or perhaps, he was offended), as he reclined back in the chair. “Don’t underestimate me, love,” he said in an almost threatening tone to paint that portrait of the killer he was all the better. “Many have, and they regretted it.” 

All you could do was take his word for it. You had seen him in action, of course, but you had also seen Roth and knew what tricks he was capable of. Both felt evenly matched to you. 

“Since you’re hungry, I’ll get food for you,” said Jacob to break the deafening quiet. With your nod enough to coax him to do so, he removed himself from your bedside and went to grab the provisions he had bought from the market. When he returned, he had a few simple things such as an apple, potato, and a few carrots. “I would cook something, but you don’t want to taste that. Besides, the nurses told me to start you off with small portions of food so as not to over do it on your stomach with you having nothing in so long.” 

Watching from the covers as he started to use a knife to cut apart the apple, you still felt bad at how he was obviously struggling to keep his eyes open. Perhaps now he was a bit more reassured you were alright, and so his body was telling him to rest. “Jacob,” you began with a heavy sigh. “If I eat this…will you go to bed?” 

He hissed irritably at just cutting the tip of his index finger, pulling it back quickly to suck on it as a means to tend to the minor injury. “No,” he said plain and simple as he wrapped the cut quickly with just a piece of gauze that was lying nearby, so he could continue with cutting the apple. “I have to stay awake to make sure you heal alright.” 

“I am fine,” you insisted with an exasperated sigh. “You, on the other hand, are falling asleep right where you sit.” 

The knife hit the wooden countertop at quite the harsh ‘thunk’ of a sound and made you recoil a bit at the force Jacob put into it to cause such a noise. He looked to you angrily out of the corner of his eye. “I said I will be fine.” 

His tone was so off putting that it made you shirk back. Seemed if you babied him, he took it a bit personally. “You have to take care of yourself…before you can take care of me…” you reminded him, whether that was something he wanted to hear or not. 

“I am aware,” retorted Jacob as he finished what he was doing and moved the pieces into a bowl nearby. “Let’s just get through this night, and we’ll talk about my health at a later date, shall we?” 

You didn’t argue—you couldn’t argue, as you were in no position to. After he had aided you in eating what you could manage that day, you fell asleep shortly after. It wasn’t like you could sleep for long periods as Jacob kept checking your wound every few hours and moving you on the bed, so you wouldn’t get sores. 

As the days went onwards, your health and energy started to come back to you. You were soon able to do the things you deemed impossible once after that horrible event, but, regardless of this, Jacob kept you inside and out of sight. He wasn’t going to risk Roth finding out that you were still very much alive after what happened a month ago. 

Jacob would have moments where he’d rest as promised when you started to improve. He never joined you in bed till he acquired enough sleep as he didn’t want to end up flopping over on top of you by accident while you worked on getting better. Soon, he was back to his normal self as you were, and you’d never quite forget the moment he re-dawned his assassin attire and gauntlet. 

“Where are you going?” you asked curiously one night as he was about to use the window as his means of escape. You were settled in bed, but you felt him move about earlier and had woken without a word till you saw him about to leave. 

He smirked in the dim light the moon cast upon him. “I am going to get your family and escort them to safety and then deal with Roth.” 

You pushed yourself up on your forearms when he said such a thing. The very idea of him performing such a task worried you greatly. “Jacob—!” 

“Hush now,” he ordered. “Go back to bed. I will be back in the morning.” 

You wanted to pull him back into the room, but before you could speak another word, Jacob was already gone and quickly on his way to do what he said he was set out to do. 

The hours were long as you waited…and waited…even when dawn came, you heard nothing from him. _Please, don’t be dead…_ you thought to yourself with a tight squeeze of your eyes. The idea of being without him was not something you could live with after everything he had done for you. Sadly, all of the waiting made you exhausted, and, regardless of how hard you tried to fight it off, you eventually fell under the influence of sleep. 

The sound of the window being opened followed by boots hitting the floorboards later that afternoon woke you slowly from where you slept. Your eyes weren’t all the way open, but you could see the boots from where you were sleeping and knew it was Jacob, but…the way he was walking towards you indicated he was somber about something. 

“Jacob…?” you questioned wearily, moving to look upon him finally. He looked fine—as though he didn’t take a single blow—but his face was contorted in a way that he held dreadful news. “What…what is it…?” 

He opened his mouth as if to just say it, but he stopped himself to try and think of a more dignified way to speak of it. “Your family is gone, (Y/N),” he whispered, grabbing your hand to hold it tightly for support. “Their dead bodies had been in the house for a long while yet. Seems he may have murdered them before you even carried out the act that night on me.” 

You tried to speak, but no words came. They were gone…truly gone…Roth didn’t even hold up his bargain. He had them murdered as some sort of revenge for joining the Rooks, perhaps. Your voice trembled as you attempted to speak. “And Roth…? What of him…?” 

“He escaped me,” Jacob admitted, but his brow furrowed into anger. “But not for long. He is my target, and my blade will be stained with his blood.” 

While you would probably have enjoyed the idea of Jacob killing Roth for such a horrible act, you stilled the thrill of putting your anger and revenge in the assassin and moved your hands to his face, which was shrouded by his cowl. “Just…Just stay here…with me…okay?” you begged, resting your forehead against his. “I’ve lost enough already, and I just…” you swallowed harshly as tears stained your cheek. “…I just need you right now.” 

For once, Jacob didn’t argue. He didn’t say anything. Instead, he moved his arms around you tightly to be there as you requested and allow you to cry out your loss. 

\--

 

It was strange to walk out the doors once more without worry of what Roth or the Blighters might think as they were to assume you dead until Jacob’s plan was carried out. But Jacob saw no reason to continue hiding you though he stayed close by to make sure Roth didn’t try to take another hit against you until Jacob had his moment…his moment to strike and kill Maxwell Roth. On a cold, winter’s evening, Jacob stopped by your location in Lambeth and escorted you to the nearest pub about the corner as a means to unwind with you. 

“Really, Jacob?” you chuckled, following with him. “It’s been such a long night.” You were grumbling playfully, wanting to just head home. He held your hands as he swung you back towards the destination he had in mind with a cheeky grin. It had been two years now since your failed assassination attempt on Jacob and everything that followed after, and it was just nice to have things finally settling and coming back to normal. “Can’t we just go home?” 

He pulled you in close, stealing a kiss with a shake of his head. “This is kind of important,” he urged, though the laughter in his tone would assume it might not be, and he was just being impossible. “Just one drink, yeah?” he bribed with a pleading look. “Just **_one_** , and I promise we’ll go home!” 

Resting your cheek on his chest, you rolled your eyes with a lopsided smile. “Alright, alright,” you said with a motion of your hand to the entrance that wasn’t far from you both. “If it’s _that_ important to you. I’ll just fall asleep at the table.” You were joking, of course, as you just enjoyed giving him a bit of a hard time. 

“Don’t do that, love,” Jacob laughed, taking your hand and guiding you into the pub. “I have something important to ask you.” 

“Can’t you ask me at home—in our warm bed or something?” you mused, resting your head on his shoulder till you were directed to take a seat opposite of him at the table he took to. 

“It wouldn’t be nearly as dramatic,” answered the assassin as he ordered two pints for you both. 

You were tired, and honestly, you would kill for a bed right about now, but you did your best to not let it show in your lazy actions and drooping eyelids. “Ah, so you want to cause a scene?” you probed, lidded eyes raised slightly in curiosity as you rested your cheek against your knuckles. 

When the drinks arrived, Jacob grabbed his and took a long chug of it—like he was in some sort of race while you fiddled with yours. “Wish me luck,” he whispered, getting to his feet and clapping his hands to silence the people who were conversing that night in the bar. “May I have everyone’s attention?” 

Your back slowly straightening up, you looked about confused as to what that fool was doing. Honestly, you were a bit afraid to ask, so you just pretended for a moment you didn’t know him even if half the patrons saw you walk in with him. 

It was so quiet that all you could hear was a bit of the glasses moving from the tops of tables to the customers’ lips and then back down again as well as a cough here and there. “I need only but a moment of your time, ladies and gentlemen,” Jacob promised, rubbing his hands together. “I am Jacob Frye—leader of the Rooks who are here to help liberate London.” 

He left out the assassin part, but that was probably because of the whole ‘secret society thing’. Just saying you were a gang leader was a bit easier anyways as the Rooks were well recognized about now. 

“I came to London,” Jacob continued with honesty in his voice and leading his actions, “as just a means to give London back to her people. I was a brash and reckless lad who was looking for glory in this world, and, perhaps, I still very much am.” It was a joke, and he managed a laugh or two out of those listening. “However,” he turned to you then to catch your attention and his voice softened, “I found something else that was a bit more worth fighting for—something that keeps me going after all this time, really. Perhaps that is selfish of me to admit, but....it was as unexpected as it was welcomed.” 

You were confused as to where this was going. Jacob soon came over to you, taking your hand and urging you to stand. Listening, you took to your feet as you looked at him and mouthed ‘what are you doing’? 

“I’ve let a lot of things go in my life without speaking of how I felt,” Jacob said softly, as if to keep it between you. “I know I’ve been far from the perfect man, but I know with you in my life, I could easily be so.” 

Right as you were about to question his actions (or ask if he was drunk since he was acting spontaneous), you saw him drop to one knee and it was there you gasped—covering your mouth to try and prevent yourself from screaming. Your hand moving to your face to try and cover your eyes as tears were threatening to spill over your lower lids, you laughed through your happy crying. 

You heard Jacob laugh softly to your reaction without him even having said anything yet. “(Y/N)?” he began, bringing the hand he had to his lips to kiss the back of it. “I hardly feel deserving, but will you marry me?” 

You moved your hand from your face finally as you knew there would be no stopping your tears at this point. Words had failed you, so all you could do was nod feverishly, trying to urge him to stand with a gentle motion of his hand he held. When he complied, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him best you could through your tearful joy that overwhelmed you as the overseers applauded the ‘yes’ you gave your leader. Perhaps it was better to not go straight home after all.


End file.
